So, day before New Year's, I learned that my uncle died on the 19th, the same day my PSN account was hacked and the same day I'd decided to try and attempt to reconnect to my family by getting Christmas presents for the niece and nephew I barely know.

What makes me feel bad is that I was less upset about his death and not being told about it than I was about the realization that my attempt at making up for being a shitty uncle would just be seen as me feeling guilty over a death I never even knew happened; I was even told that much when I found out and called my parents about it.

Truth be known, I barely knew him; he was already in his 50s by my earliest memories of him. He was a sweet man, though, he and his wife, my mom's sister; every birthday up until my 20s they'd always send us checks for $20, which when you're 10 or so is a SHITLOAD of money, especially in the early 80s.

Honestly, though, my aunt's death hit me harder than his...he was lost to dementia, not sure if it was Alzheimer's related or not, shortly after I'd followed my ex out to Colorado. When she died a few years ago, on the day before my birthday, he didn't even recognize her and couldn't understand why people kept telling him about this strange woman's death. That was the most horrifying thing I'd ever heard; they'd been together since the 40s, devoted almost their entire lives to each other, and when she died he didn't even know who she was. To live together for all your life with someone, to have them outlive you, yet to still be alone when your end came...I still have nightmares about it. I'd like to think that, if there is an afterlife, she was waiting for him, and he recognized her the minute he arrived.

Still, maybe his death affected me more than I realized...I did say the idea to try and stop being such a shitty uncle happened the day my own uncle died, even without me knowing about it. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence.